


The Usual Suspect

by Fedora



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, POV Outsider, retroactive spoiler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9782381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fedora/pseuds/Fedora
Summary: Police Constable Basira Hussain went back to the Magnus Institute hoping for peace of mind, she may have found a lead to her murder case.  Episode tag for Episode 43 – Section 31





	

**Author's Note:**

> I did get this done before Basira reappeared in the newest episode! It was up on my tumblr.

Basira reached over and stopped the recording.  “I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about an ongoing investigation on tape.  I don’t care who will or will not be listening to it.”

Sims stared at her like she’d hit him, blinking in that way of people jarred out of a thought.  He opened his mouth, possibly to argue, and she stood to stop him.  “I’m done.”

He nodded and gathered up the papers, pens, and tape recorder.  Sims reactions had been… off; she hadn’t been on the giving side of many interviews, but she knew how the person questioning was supposed to act.  Considering where she was, she hadn’t been expecting disgust or disbelief, and the absent-minded agreement, like it reminded him of something else, made sense in light of the boxes full of weird events.  Some things had to sound familiar.  It was the occasional signs of eagerness, the increased focus, leaning closer to listen, that creeped her out, especially concerning Gertrude Robinson’s murder.

“Let me see you out.  It’s easy to get turned around down here,” he stood, mostly using his arms to push himself upright, “a wrong turn is as likely to head to Artifact Storage as the Lobby.”

“Sure,” Basira didn’t really want the company, talking helped her think and she needed to mull over everything, but the phrase Artifact Storage sounded ominous.  Or at least something that would get the person investigating _her_ disappearance sectioned, Institute aside.

“Martin,” the tall man in the front room looked to Sims when he spoke.  The table was covered in piles of papers, each with the Magnus Institute letterhead and filled with handwritten lines.  Old yellowed bankers’ boxes were stalked one side with clean white new ones on the other.  A small CO2 fire extinguisher sat on the table next to an open box.  “I’ll see the Police Constable out.”

“I could do that.  No need for you to walk that far.”

“It’s fine,” aggressively fine, and Sims glanced at her before dropping to a more confidential tone.  “Besides sometime away from my desk would do me some good.”

“Oh, do you want me to get some more boxes to check?”  Blackwood looked over to her.  “We’ve been checking the boxes for more worms.”

Sims interrupted before she could think of a reply to that.  “I can… yes.  That would be nice.  Thank you, Martin.” 

He shuffled quickly to the door, grabbing a battered cane as he went.  Basira followed, though she was sure this was not the way she had followed Rosie, the receptionist, to find the Archives.

“I was given a key to the freight elevator after the attack.  We can use that, and it’ll let you out closer to the lobby.”

“Not everyone has access?” It didn’t sound like much, but you never knew what could help a case.

“No, we’ve had some practical jokers over the years and the freight elevator is the only one with access to the basement.  Only the janitorial staff, the heads of Artifact Storage, and Elias had access before now.”

It wasn’t hard to guess why he had been given access, even with the cane Sims’ gait seemed pained.

Sims noticed her observing him and sighed.  “Don’t tell Martin.  He’s been overly concerned.  I’ve been having some trouble with the stairs is all.”

“Then pardon my asking, but should you even be back at work?”

There was a significant pause, and he tried to lengthen it by hitting the button for the lift.  “During the attack the worms went for my legs first.  I’m still unsure if it’s due to legs being nearest to worm height or they wanted to make sure I couldn’t run.”

Which didn’t give her an answer, but pretty much ensured she wasn’t going to continue questioning.  The part of her brain not being disgusted by the image Sims had conjured wondered just how long he’d kept that thought to himself.

They entered the lift in silence; then waited.  The doors had closed, but Sims made no motion to either push a button or retrieve a key.  Basira slowly became aware of all the people she hadn’t told she was going to visit the Magnus Institute.  She thought about Sims; sure, he had a cane and looked like he would fall over from someone looking at him the wrong way, but there were normal reasons for people to be stronger than they looked.  And from what she knew there was very little normal in the Magnus Institute.

“Is there a way I could get her tapes?”

“What?” Basira didn’t step back, there wasn’t much room in the elevator and she wanted room to maneuver, just in case of those less than normal reasons.

“Gertrude’s tapes.  I need to know what was on her tapes.”  Sims took a pleading tone.  “They told me she was shot.  No mysterious wounds.  Just shot.  By a person.  I need to know, and I am sure her tapes will help.”

He’d moved into her personal space when she didn’t step back and was all but vibrating with the intensity of his request.  She shouldn’t, and not just because they were evidence.  There were no leads.  Gertrude Robinson had lived a solitary life.  They could find no enemies.  She had no children, no close relatives, no lovers.  Her life insurance was enough for a modest funeral in a respectable cemetery.  Her flat had changed hands without major changes or financial gain for anyone.  No one had benefited from her death… except the man who had been promoted to her old position. 

Sims’ interest in the murder was manic, more like a Poe story than real life, and much more than was warranted for a distant colleague.  Manic was bad, manic was unpredictable.  And there were other people working in the Archives to consider. 

She would just have to keep a tight rein on the information she fed to him. “I wouldn’t be able to get you all of them.  At best, it would be one at a time, and not too often.”

“Anything would be a huge help,” Sims grinned at her and looked more like a tired academic than a strung-out junkie. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said as the elevator started its accent.  Now she needed to dig up a tape player, and find the time to listen to the damn things.


End file.
